Crossing Stars
by Yugao
Summary: A marriage is arranged between two future daimyos, and a young woman interferes for her friends' sake. A straggler of an avenger strives to stop her before she ruins their lives, as well as her own. [SakuraNejiTentenSasuke, AU]
1. Love on Borrowed Time

**_Crossing Stars_**

_**Yugao**_

**_Summary: _**A marriage is arranged between the children of powerful daimyos; for her clan's sake, a young woman needs to intervene. A straggler of an avenger strives to keep her from ruining their lives – as well as her own.

**_Author's Note: _**It's a huge love quadrilateral, the perennial bunch of SakuraNejiTentenSasuke in this multi-chaptered AU. I dreamed it up in library period, so here it is… a romance/action/adventure piece for you guys. Someone once asked me to do an AU NTS, so I've just added Sakura into the mix for some weird reason (since I'm not quite so good at writing her.) I hope you enjoy it!

**_Disclaimer: _**There's nothing in Naruto I own.

* * *

**_Chapter 1… Love on Borrowed Time_**

The sun was still low in the eastern sky as two majestic brown horses led an ornate wooden carriage. The road was long, winding, and dusty, but the curtains were pulled over the doors and windows, keeping the outside from the riders' view. Still, a pair of vibrant green eyes peeked out from behind the curtains and out into the vast expanse of the landscape that surrounded them.

"Sakura-sama, close the curtain. Neither your father nor your future husband will be pleased if you become blinded by the dust on the road," her guardian said languidly as he peered at her from behind his book. The man looked rather lopsided in some way, with a mask covering most of his face and his white hair in disarray. Still, he was one of her father's most trusted advisers as well as an incredibly skilled warrior, and she was in no position to underestimate his capabilities, whatever those were.

She sighed as she brushed a few stray strands of pink hair from her pale face. She was dressed formally, rather too stiffly for her taste – her hair was tied up away from her face in a tight bun, with a little falling to her chin and framing her face. She wore a traditional red kimono, with billowy sleeves and magnificent cherry blossom embroidery from the knee down. Her under-robe was black, lined at the hem by russet-colored blooms. A black silk obi belt cinched her small waist, and a pair of red zori completed her princess-worthy appearance.

She gave him a dry smile. "I'm sorry, Kakashi-san, it's just that I was trying to push my engagement out of my mind, and I thank you greatly for reminding me once again."

"Sarcasm isn't a thing men want to see in their wives," he replied with similar flatness. He flipped his book closed and looked at her again. "In any case, there's not much use trying to forget about it. The very purpose we're traveling to the city-state of Higure is so that we could finalize the marriage dowry and the like. It's almost certain, now."

She sighed again, this time more from sadness than exasperation. She frowned at him. "I know that our village of Akegata would benefit much from my marriage with the daimyo's nephew, but I just can't help but feel I'm just a commodity being traded off for our people's future."

"Sad as that is, you'll be revered as a heroine. And who knows, maybe you'll come to like the young man. I hear he is quite an impressive warrior even at his age," he answered bluntly, because he had never been one for sympathy, "At least you should give him that much of a chance, Sakura-sama."

Sakura smiled wryly. "If it wasn't for my father, I wouldn't agree to this. I know he's been suffering lately from his sickness, and I just don't want to put more pressure on him than is already there. Alone, I'm not sure I can restore Akegata's economy and trade relations, and as far as any of our advisers can see, this solution is the best for everyone… but me."

"Come now. Don't tell me that if both your parents were well you'd rebel against such an idea. You know this was his plan to begin with, and his illness is beside the point," he pointed out. "And who knows? Perhaps it'll be the best solution for you as well. Everyone has started to say it was about time you settled down. Though personally, I believe you too young even at nineteen – when most girls your age have given birth twice over."

She giggled. She liked that about Kakashi – he was always honest with what he thought, and often his insights were both wise and amusing. "Well, I'm not really one to disobey my parents," she replied, adding, "But in situations like this, when true love is at stake, I have to wonder which is more important. I've always dreamt of having a love story the kind we see in legends, but now, it's almost certain that I won't. I just can't help but feel rather disappointed I was never given the chance to meet the one meant for me."

"True love, huh? As the daughter of the daimyo of Akegata and the bride of the future daimyo of Higure, that's an idea you'll have to forget," he said with finality. At this time the man had returned to his book, finding the characters presented there more interesting than a debate on the existence of true love.

There was an awkward silence in the carriage, and Sakura once again found herself looking out onto the long, dusty, winding road.

* * *

Apple and vanilla candles, as well as sweet-scented incense, fragranced the whole room; they were comforting amidst the stern marble memorials. The ancestral shrine was shrouded more in darkness than in light, the doors and windows were turned away from the direction of the still-rising sun. Etched on the austere black stone were different names dating back to the very first Hyuuga, the very first daimyo of Higure. Before them, a young man bowed humbly, pressing his forehead to the cold, unforgiving stone in prayer. 

Slowly he pushed himself up, having said his praise and devotions to the great clan members who came before him. He knelt there in the center of the shrine, his eyes closed; for a moment, his heart was filled with satiety and contentment. He was blessed with the peace of mind that so often escaped him.

Such feelings were shattered when he opened his eyes once more.

His dark brown hair was long, falling down to his back but tied neatly away from his face. His skin was pale, and his eyes an equally pallid amethyst-gray. His face was a mask of indifference and coldness, as it always was. His clothes were simple, yet he carried them with a regal air, suggesting nobility in his blood. Usually, he was one to appreciate the simple, austere beauty of the ancestral tablets, the marble floor, and even the peaceful scents mingling in the air – but that day was different.

That day, Hyuuga Neji needed his ancestors' indulgence more than ever.

"Neji-nii-san?" a soft, gentle voice came from behind him, and he stood and turned to look at whoever had called for him – though of course, after all those years, he had learned to recognize his younger cousin's voice.

"Hinata-sama," he replied, acknowledging her presence. The girl was timid, with wide, almost opalescent eyes; her hair was black and chin-length, framing a delicate porcelain face. Her clothes were similar to his own – elegant in their simplicity. She didn't look up at him directly, and it came as no surprise to him; instead, her eyes were to the ground before him. He watched her, and asked, "Were you looking for me?"

She nodded. "I've been seeking you all around the grounds, and one of the servants told me I would find you here. An emissary of Akegata has arrived, announcing that Sakura-sama and her guardian are on their way and are expected by tomorrow."

"Hn," he replied, mostly because he didn't quite know how to react. The arranged marriage was a little twist of fate he didn't understand, and he preferred not to think about it too much. He stepped out from the shadowy ancestral shrine and out into the garden, which was blanketed in soft yellow early morning light.

Hinata looked at him worriedly. "Neji-nii-san is not looking forward to meeting Sakura-sama?" she asked, genuinely curious. She had always looked up to her cousin, and the thought that he was adverse to the decision of the present daimyo, her father, troubled her somewhat. "I believe I heard from Otou-san that if all negotiations go well between him and Sakura-sama's guardian, the wedding will be set two months from tomorrow."

"Two months," he repeated, more in a reassuring statement than a question of whether he heard her correctly. He was at least relieved that it wasn't forced to be the priority in his mind at the moment. There was so much else to see to, and he didn't think he was too ecstatic about the plans for arranged marriage.

Taking his reply differently, his cousin wondered before asking, "Neji-nii-san thinks it is too far off? Several of Otou-san's advisers think so as well, but personally I believe you would want to get to know your future bride before the marriage actually takes place…"

"Hinata-sama, please stop," he said softly, as descended the stone steps from the ancestral shrine, "I'd rather be by myself at the moment."

And the girl stood there quietly, trying so hard to understand what he was going through, but failing. She watched his retreating form, wanting nothing more than to let him trust her with how he felt.

* * *

Block. 

Parry.

Thrust.

Cut.

Kill.

He was well acquainted with the infamous mercenary's code, young as he was. No, he didn't sell his fighting skill and his precious time for money, or for anything in that matter. After he fled his homeland in search of revenge, he had often mused to himself that, like the assassins had to do, he had to tear his heart from the rest of him. He knew that if he ever allowed pity to overcome him, he would never accomplish his mission.

He smirked at the mere thought of how many people had fallen by his sword, how much blood had stained his hands. His sympathy, or whatever was left of it after the tragedy, was gone, along with the rest of what truly made him human. The only emotion he had allowed to control him was anger; it fueled his hatred and eradicated the feeling of humanness, of weakness.

He closed his dark, contemplative eyes and allowed himself a small sigh as he ran a hand through his dark hair. His clothes were a little more presentable than an ordinary traveler's: he wore a blue-gray kimono with a slightly darker hakama, and on his back he carried a long, slim black scabbard, one that hid a katana his mentor had once entrusted him.

He cut a path through the gnarled woods, not with the anxious speed of one being preyed upon, or the carefree wandering of a child; he walked with the measured pace of one used to walking, and that he was. He had been to so many places, seen so much, heard so much, knew so much… but he felt nothing.

He preferred traversing through the wilderness than through towns; whenever he had the chance he left the peaceful little villages to take a longer and more dangerous path through the forests that lined the hillside. He despised the communities; they reminded him too much of the bitter memories he had in the life he had long turned his back on.

He remembered one time, as he entered a village for a short while, when a little girl walked straight up to him, wide-eyed, innocent, and naïve; too gullible and trusting for her own good. She smiled up at him, and asked, "What's your name?"

And he knew not what to answer. He was no longer Uchiha Sasuke, his childhood self who reveled in games and the company of friends. He wasn't Akegata's silent warrior, especially not when he turned his back on them to pursue a greater calling: revenge. He did not want anything to do with that life, that part of him, anymore. He had grown stronger, immensely powerful, and fiercely independent. His past was something to be forgotten.

So, without a name to give the child or the interest with which to give one, he walked straight past her, leaving her standing there in confusion. Usually, the people who passed through their village were friendly enough to delight in the naïveté present in every child; he was an exception.

He vowed never to return to that village again.

He paused awhile, and for a moment it seemed the world around him froze: the sky, peeking in through the highest boughs of the trees that encircled him, was a bright blue. Shafts of sunlight broke in from treetops here and there. Lush green foliage surrounded him; somewhere high up in the trees, birds were twittering in their usual gaiety. But for all its beauty he felt only emptiness inside.

And so this was how he lived: alone in the world, revenge being his sole purpose. He told himself it was his reason for being, the end he needed to accomplish to have reason to salvage the spirit he had thrown away.

* * *

A windmill shuriken cut through the still mid-morning air, its metallic sheen giving the allusion to a morbid glimmer. It spun dangerously close to a young woman, forcing her to cartwheel out of the way to evade it. Usually she didn't resort to such fancy stunts in mere training sessions, but her sparring partner didn't usually make the margin so lethally close with a particularly deadly weapon, either. She scoffed at the miss, mischief in her eyes. 

No sooner had she moved, yet another young woman swept down from the trees to catch the spiraling weapon in one hand. She caught it with ease in one of her slightly calloused hands, yet she didn't appear so proud of her expertise at the moment. Her brown hair, usually neatly tied up in two buns, fell down to her shoulders in the heat of battle; a frustrated yet determined look was in her dark brown eyes.

The first woman lunged at her, kunai in hand, with indeterminable speed. In defense she lifted the fuuma shuriken she was holding, and metal met metal, emitting a few sparks that died as quickly as they came.

"Sorry to interrupt," came a young man's voice, "But Gaara-sama sent for you, Tenten."

At once, the two warriors paused to catch their breath. The first, a tall woman with wheat-blond hair and striking eyes, chuckled between breathless gasps. "And when Gaara-sama calls, you'd do well to come at once."

"Sorry, Temari. I hope you don't mind," the other said, smiling sadly at her opponent. "Personally, I really would've wanted to finish our fight."

Temari laughed. "Sorry? Don't be. Maybe we can continue our fight elsewhere. Go!" she urged with a wide grin. "I'll see you afterwards."

Tenten smiled, nodded to the young man, and asked, "Do you have any idea why he called for me, Kankuro?" He responded with a shrug, but she didn't miss the knowing, worried look he sent to Temari; soon the three of them sped back towards the camp where the rebel army's leader, Gaara, waited.

She had been a wanderer before Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari took her in and treated her as they would their own sister. She had gone for years aimlessly, but because of them she found herself around people who cared for her, who stood up for their beliefs and protected each other. Sure, she and Temari had had disagreements at first, but the years passed and they had grown close enough to call each other sisters. To them, she was eternally grateful.

She gave a courteous bow to the red-haired, green-eyed young man before she asked, "What do you need of me, Gaara-sama?"

Though he was young, she knew the rebel leader was not to be underestimated. His abilities were still a mystery to her, but she knew just by being around him that he emanated immense power. He was one who commanded respect, if not fear. Still, he looked at her rather anxiously. "Tenten…" He motioned for her to follow him into the tent, and she sat down as he instructed her to. He looked at her expressionlessly before finally saying, "There is a threat being posed against the army, and it needs to be eliminated right away."

"And you want me to do it," she said, purposefully letting it curl into a question.

He nodded. "I have already discussed this with Temari and Kankuro. They believe you are the obvious choice for the mission."

"What does it entail?" she asked.

"The daimyo's daughter, Haruno Sakura, is currently on her way from Akegata to Higure. We have learned that the purpose of the journey is to seal an arranged marriage between her and the nephew of Higure's daimyo," Gaara explained calmly, denying the fact that he thought the matter urgent.

Tenten nodded. "And you do not wish for the union to take place."

"Akegata has always known of our presence, but their armies were too weak to eliminate us. If the land is united with Higure it could possibly bring about our downfall," he pointed out, "So your mission is to stop the wedding at all costs, using any means necessary."

She smirked. "You wish for me to kill one, or the other."

"Or both, if it is needed," he replied listlessly.

There was a long, tense silence in the tent before finally, she stood. "You know I can never refuse anything you ask of me, Gaara-sama. I will be leaving in a few hours, Higure bound."

**_Author's Note: _**That was a lot longer than any other chapter I've written, so I guess I have loads more explaining to do than normal. Here I'll help explain the extremely AU plotline, where this is going, the characters, and the like, especially if you didn't understand quite yet. **Akegata **is the vassal state over which Sakura's father reigns. Apparently, it is also where Sasuke was originally from. Literally it means "dawn." **Higure **is the vassal state where Hyuuga Hiashi is the current daimyo. Literally, it translates to "nightfall." Rebel armies were common in feudal Japan, because there was a constant power struggle for the position of daimyo (as is suggested in the Bird Country filler arc.) In this fic, Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari lead a rebel army, though there are several other unnamed members as yet.

Phew, that was a mouthful. Please leave a review?


	2. Setting Up Dreams

**_Crossing Stars_**

_**Yugao**_

**_Author's Note: _**Here's the second chapter! Oh yeah, I may have forgotten to mention in the first chapter that this fic is very, very loosely based on _The Tale of Genji _by Lady Murasaki. It's a Japanese epic story, but the only things similar between these two are the concepts, clothes, and the like, so basically it's not even close to plagiarism. If you have any questions please feel free to ask via reviews or private messages, thanks. Anyway, on to the story!

**_Disclaimer: _**There's nothing in Naruto I own.

* * *

**_Chapter 2… Setting Up Dreams_**

The sky was in the noonday position and radiant sunbeams ricocheted off the roofs of the small, well-kept houses in Higure. People dressed in bright, vivid colors passed each other on the street, smiling at friends and strangers alike. In the distance, surrounded by azaleas and cherry blossoms, stood the daimyo's mansion. Its white walls were more warmly welcoming than stern, and the blue-gray tiles of the roof seemed to catch the sunlight; it made the place look even more scintillating than it already was.

In the midst of the crowd, Tenten tugged self-consciously at her brown hair, pulled up into a loose but neat bun, and at the black lacquered hair ornament that held it in place. As she did, she looked down at herself. She wore a simple pale blue kimono, with a monotone pattern of white sprigs; a plain white satin obi encircled her waist, and a pair of straw sandals over white tabi. She didn't think the outfit was necessary, but apparently, Temari and Kankuro thought otherwise.

_The clouded surface of the mirror glimmered as someone pulled back the tent flap and let in the sunlight. Tenten raised her hand to her eyes, shielding them from the near-blinding light. Her sudden movement startled Temari, who inadvertently tugged at the girl's hair harder than was necessary. She gave a surprised yelp, making both Temari and Kankuro laugh at her priceless reaction. She glared at them ruefully before she groaned, "That hurt…"_

"_Well, maybe it wouldn't have hurt so much if you stayed still," the older girl said with a wide grin. "Now do me a favor and don't move your head. I'm trying to put your hair up, if you didn't notice yet."_

_She sighed. "I don't see why I have to change my outfit and even my hairstyle for this mission. Gaara-sama said I could've left for Higure as I was dressed and fully packed, but you two had to stop me."_

_Temari raised an eyebrow. "Actually, Tenten, Gaara isn't really in a position to offer any fashion advice, or any tips on undercover work for that matter," she answered as she took out a white satin ribbon from a side drawer._

"_Gaara's never been in an undercover mission, you see," Kankuro replied with a wide grin, "He's too conspicuous, what with that tattoo and gourd of his. More or less, Temari gets stuck with most of the needed undercover work."_

_The blonde nodded. She'd finally tied Tenten's hair up in a loose, casual-looking bun, and was fishing for something in her pocket. "Besides, someone's going to get suspicious if the assassin who was spotted attempting to kill the daimyo's lady guest looks strangely like the new girl in Higure. You've got to look somewhat different."_

"_Not like I won't be wearing a mask, Temari," Tenten pointed out._

_She shrugged as she found what she was looking for: a black comb ornament made of lacquered wood. She set it gently in Tenten's hair and smiled triumphantly. "You're ready, now. No one would dream you're part of the rebel army against Akegata."_

_And she could only hope she was right._

So in a few hours she had arrived in Higure and learned she'd arrived even before the daimyo's daughter. She supposed it was for quite a few reasons: one, being that the route the girl must have taken skirted the camp completely, adding to their journey a good number of traveling hours; two, being that since she was an assassin, she had access to quite a few secrets to speedier movement.

Tenten wandered around the village, her dark brown eyes scanning every street sign. Gaara had told her before that he had contacts in Higure, one of them being the owner of a certain Kiritsubo Inn. "_Ask for Mayuri," _he had said, "_And tell her the desert-dwellers need her aid." _Being too proud to admit she didn't know her way around the place, she ambled past the busy people for at least an hour before finally she found herself at the front door of the Kiritsubo.

It was an ordinary-looking inn, with paper-paneled doors and windows lined with sweet-smelling balsa wood. She knocked at the front door, and a curvy, middle-aged woman with long, black curls greeted her. Tenten wore a pleasant smile as she said, "Good morning, I was looking for a woman named Mayuri…"

"I am Mayuri," replied the woman warily, "What is it you needed?"

She recalled Gaara's words, and echoed them to the woman. "The desert-dwellers need your aid," she answered.

Hearing this, the woman's brown eyes widened as she nodded. "Yes… please come in. We have much to say to each other," she said as she ushered Tenten into the Kiritsubo Inn. The door slid shut behind them.

* * *

Despite his seeming indifference to the world around him, Sasuke knew the outlying villages and their surroundings like the back of his hand. He was a few miles from Akegata, his homeland, which he had bypassed for the nth time since he left a few years ago. He was approaching the outskirts of Higure, a city-state known for its army's strength even in unarmed combat. He had never seen the daimyo or any of his cohorts, but he supposed he was efficient in his work; Higure had not seen a civil war since the turn of the century. 

For some reason, it became some sort of tradition for him to stop there each time he neared it; when he had first left Akegata in the first year of his journey, he sought respite in its neighboring town, Higure. He had been there perhaps only three times in the course of his search for revenge, but it helped him forget what had happened before.

Listlessly, he approached the Emperor's vassal state. The thought of a good night's sleep plus the assurance his homicidal brother wouldn't think of finding him there was somewhat comforting, and he needed his rest. At the thought of his brother, he diverted his gaze. It wasn't something he liked reminiscing – Itachi's betrayal brought back the pain where he didn't want it. He would have gladly traded his life for another, any other. He was like a warrior clinging to a lost cause, and the odds were greatly set against him.

But even warriors needed to leave the battlefield once in a while.

A visit to Higure became too tempting to resist; he tried to call to mind the landscape so as to remember a small side road that would lead him back to the city. He looked around warily, as if to make sure no one had been watching him – but the side road was hardly ever taken, and with his katana and his lethal skill with it there was hardly much to be afraid of.

The road cut off as in a fork; one, a less traveled dirt road, led off farther into the north; the other, a wider road, wore the looks of a path tread often. Fresh, few hours-old footprints led off to Higure, scuffling a little at stray pebbles and twigs. They seemed to have been made by travelers' straw sandals, the kind wanderers had taken to wear for comfort. The same road the owner of these footprints had taken took anyone straight to the vassal state without passing through the gates. Did one like him make the prints: a straggler, an avenger, and a warrior with one purpose…?

Who else would have needed a path unmarked on any map, a road unused except by those used to life outside the sheltered, pampered villages? A merchant would have passed through the gates, as would have scholars or even magicians; but mere wanderers or perhaps thieves who had no business passing through were not often let into towns such as these. He barely dared hope, but he wondered if it was the truth or mere wishful thinking.

His face was void of expression as he walked towards the place, all the while wondering about the second set of footprints. The idea of one other like him seemed to entice him in some way he didn't quite understand. Maybe it was because, for the longest time, he had thought himself all alone in the world, all alone in his cause.

His obsidian eyes were set not on the path that lay before him, but on the continuing footmarks he walked alongside. He imagined himself walking in silence with one who shared his fate; it only ignited his curiosity more. But at the very least, he was comforted by the thought of having someone else who knew what it felt, who understood why he left.

Did he dare make a wish?

Overhead, starlings sped, casting their small, airy shadows on the ground before him. In the distance, he could hear the burbling of a brook or the sloshing of a stream. The wind whistled through the nooks and crannies in the leaves and trees, making a strange, mysterious sort of music that matched his thoughts at the moment.

He neared the village, and a few houses peeked through bushes and shrubbery. The footprints, too, cut off where the dirt of the road met the cobbled streets of the place. His brow furrowed at the sight – that could've only meant that whoever made them was still in Higure. Sasuke smiled, his first genuine smile in a long while.

Perhaps, if the stars were friendly, they would soon make these two paths cross.

* * *

The carriage rocked the daimyo's daughter and her watchful guardian lightly; the tousle roused the man from his half-sleep. For a few moments, he had to remind himself where he was, exactly – and remembered that he was sent on a mission to protect the girl while the wedding preparations were set. He remembered, too, that they were bound for the Empire's vassal state of Higure. 

He sighed as he picked up his book, which had fallen to the floor sometime when he had dozed off. He brushed the dust from it gently and laid it on his lap. His eyes wandered to the young woman, only nineteen. Her soft pink hair, which had come free from its formal, tight bun somewhere along the way, fell down to her shoulders. Her eyes were closed, but Kakashi recalled to himself the exact, almost turquoise shade of green they were.

"You've grown so much, Sakura-sama," he said softly to her sleeping form, as a brother would to a younger sister. He had been her guardian since she was born, and had known her since her earliest childhood days. Through the years she'd changed so much… especially after the tragedy. He sighed to himself, pushing the thought out of his mind. He'd been once again entrusted with the task of caring for her, and he had to make sure all went well, for everyone's sakes.

"_She's been troubled ever since, Kakashi-san," the daimyo told him, sadness in his jade green eyes, "Hasn't she? She never tells me anything of how she feels. She always greets me with a smile, and it worries me that she's holding back her emotions."_

_He nodded, a solemn expression on his face. "They had been friends, but since he left years ago it's as if she can't bring herself to forget," he said, choosing his words as carefully as he could._

"_But why? She has other friends here in the court: Naruto, who's been a friend of hers since she was a child; Ino, whom she spends the most time with; Shikamaru and Chouji, who are always around and who try to cheer her up. But nothing seems to work," Sakura's father said in concern, "How can one person change another so much like this?"_

_He thought his words over before replying, "Perhaps her feelings for him were deeper than any of us ever realized, and when he left she could hardly believe it."_

_The father looked on in disappointment. "I've always been partial to the boy, I'd admit. He was so calm and collected, and he always knew exactly what to do or say in any situation. And I suppose you're right… Sakura always seemed rather fond of him. But I'm afraid he's dead to us now. There's no bringing him back, and we can't accept him even if he comes back himself."_

"_You're right, I suppose – we cannot be truly sure that he would stay loyal after what he did. But is it really right to arrange this marriage with the young nephew of Higure's daimyo when you're aware of this, of your daughter's feelings for another?" Kakashi asked him curiously._

_He nodded. "Maybe because of this, she'll finally move on and forget him," he began, adding, "And it's up to you, Kakashi, to make sure all goes well."_

"_I'll do the best I can," he answered solemnly._

He gave another sigh, this one barely audible over the clopping of the horses' hooves on dry, barren roads and the turning of wheels. A sudden movement jostled the carriage once more, waking the young woman from her sleep. She looked up at him, yawned slightly, and asked, "Will we be arriving at Higure soon, Kakashi-san?"

"Not for another day yet, Sakura-sama. It'll be best if you return to sleep," he answered. He lifted his book back up to his eyes, but his eyes did not focus on the printed letters. Instead his brow furrowed with concern. If Sakura knew of his conversation with her father, would she have thought differently about the arranged marriage?

In any case, he decided it was for the best if he remained silent.

Sakura smiled wanly. "I'll try. And… Kakashi-san?"

"Yes?"

She smiled again. "Thanks for trying so hard to protect me like this. It means so much… both to me, and to my father." With those words, she leaned her head against the cushioned seat and returned to sleep.

* * *

"Have you spoken with him, Hinata?" 

The young woman put down her calligraphy brush and turned to look at her father. They shared the same pearl-like eyes, though his were full of wisdom while hers were of gentleness. His hair was long and tied back, and he carried himself with a sort of commanding aura. She sighed, more from concern than from anything else. "Yes, I have, Otou-san," she replied quietly.

He didn't answer immediately, instead sitting beside her on the tatami mat. Finally, he asked, "And how did he react to the news?" His tone was expressionless, but she knew that inside he truly was concerned for her cousin. He stared at the scroll she had been writing on, but he didn't seem to focus on what she had written.

"Not to well," she replied hesitatingly. She put her fingertips to her lip, a habit she had taken to reassure herself. "He doesn't seem too excited about the idea at all. Perhaps it's a little too soon…? But I do not always understand Neji-nii-san."

He nodded. "It is difficult sometimes, but you have to understand him, Hinata. He is only twenty, and he's being forced into marriage. At such an age, very few would be prepared for such a commitment. It entails mostly business, when most people their age would have married for reasons like love, and the like."

"I don't know, Otou-san. Haven't all of the Hyuuga marriages been arranged? He should at least be thankful it isn't to a complete stranger. Hasn't he known Sakura-sama since he was a child?" she asked thoughtfully.

Her father chuckled at her reply. "They've seen each other only once, when they were around five, and they hated each other instantly. They fought the whole time."

Hinata paled at the point of information. "I didn't know that," she said meekly.

"It's all right, Hinata. They're more mature now. Hopefully they'll have gotten over such childish matters," he replied, a little apprehensively. "Besides, her father is in need of our help. He's aided us before, and it's our turn to help them. The union will be mutually beneficial."

She nodded. "Mutually beneficial," she echoed, adding, "To us and to Sakura-sama's parents. But certainly not to the ones to be married! In that case it isn't as beneficial as we think it to be."

He was silent for a moment, perhaps startled at his daughter's outburst. Finally, he rose and answered quietly, "There are some sacrifices that must be made for the greater good." With those cold words, he walked out the door, leaving her alone in the room.

Hinata laughed bitterly at his words. "There are some sacrifices that must be made for the greater good," she repeated as she picked up the calligraphy brush once more. Her quivering hands dipped the brush into the ink slowly, but in midair it slipped from her hands and onto the balsa wood table. A black stain formed where the brush's tip met the wood.

As she lifted the brush once more, she found the stain was irremovable; and she knew that, just like in real life, some mistakes could not be erased. No matter how hard you try, some things just never faded out of memory. The damage had already been done.

"What good would come from this, Otou-san?" she whispered, standing from where she was and leaving her unfinished calligraphy on the table.

**_Author's Note: _**It's slightly shorter than the previous chapter, but hopefully it made better sense. Okay, Tenten's scene first: the **Kiritsubo **is actually a wing in the Emperor's palace, a side of the palace where his ladies-in-waiting lived. The sentence "The desert-dwellers need your aid" comes from the fact that people who needed to deliver private messages needed to use code words so as not to arouse the suspicion of others who might be able to overhear. Hinata's next: the scene with the calligraphy brush at the end was symbolic of her thoughts on what was going to happen to Neji.

Now that that's done, please leave a review and tell me what you think of it so far! I know it's probably going slower than you guys would prefer, but this is really intended to be a long (maybe exceeding fifteen chapters) fic. So, taking that into account, it's not going as slow as you think. Anyway, I'd like your honest opinions on it! Thanks.


	3. So Near, So Far

**_Crossing Stars_**

_**Yugao**_

**_Author's Note: _**The third chapter's here, and I'm glad you guys are still reading and reviewing! In this chapter, Tenten and Sasuke meet, as do Neji and Sakura. The question is, what are their first impressions of each other? Will these last long enough to be proven right? Does Sasuke really like tomatoes? For all the questions except the latter (or not), I suggest you read on.

**_Disclaimer: _**There's nothing in Naruto I own.

* * *

**_Chapter 3… So Near, So Far_**

Neji stood at the front door; his placid eyes were expressionless save for an almost unnoticeable narrowing of them that meant he was borderline-frustrated. As his uncle requested him to, he wore a formal black robe and had tied his hair back in the traditional style he wasn't quite used to. He wanted nothing more than to be alone at that moment, but it was what the daimyo – and what the city-state of Higure – wanted and expected him to do.

A quick glance towards the outer gates told him a carriage had just paused in front of the estate. He closed his eyes for a moment to listen, to discern the sounds of the city hustle and bustle from a carriage door being opened, delicate footfalls towards the manor… but reaching the moon would have been an easier task.

He turned instead to the other people in the room with him. Standing at the other side of the door was Hinata. She, too, was dressed in her formal garb – a black kimono with snow-laden branches of setsuka reaching out from the hem, and a silk white obi belt cinching her waist. Her dark hair had also been tied in a tight but not severe bun, held in place with a black crown-like hair ornament, away from her pale face. She caught his gaze, nodded timidly, and peered out to the gates once more.

Farther away was his uncle, the daimyo, who nodded to him when they locked eyes. The man seemed more regal, more commanding, than ever; he was dressed simply, in a black robe similar to yet not as intricate as Neji's – but still he seemed the most intimidating figure in the room.

"Neji! Are you excited to finally meet your future bride?" a loud voice interrupted his train of thought. He turned to see Lee, his childhood friend as well as the daimyo's official messenger. He was one of the few in the court who didn't address him as master – he refused to, and so no one forced him. His dark eyes closed and crinkled with his wide smile. "I've never seen Sakura-san, but I hear she's very beautiful. You are extremely fortunate, Neji, to have her as your soon-to-be wife!"

Higure's future daimyo let out an exasperated sigh, the most emotion he had dared betray that day. "I thought the daimyo sent you out to send a message this morning. Shouldn't you still be out delivering it?"

"Ah, my rival underestimates my speed and efficiency!" the young man laughed. "While it is true that Hiashi-sama sent me out on a mission today, I have already delivered it and made it back to Higure. How can I possibly miss the opportunity to meet the famed Sakura-san?"

Neji ignored him, because Hinata had gasped, "She's coming, Neji-nii-san!"

He stiffened as the voices he had only vaguely noticed before became more audible with each passing moment. Beside him, Lee seemed to only barely contain his excitement; the boy seemed to panic and fidgeted silently as he stood there beside him. The door slid open in a sort of painstaking slow motion.

Standing there in the doorway was a young woman, Neji's age or perhaps younger, with her pink hair tied in a formal bun and her vivid green eyes sparkling with childlike wisdom. Her kimono, though slightly rumpled, was intricately designed; it seemed a piece of art that had taken years to complete.

She struck him as a porcelain doll, one better kept high up on the shelf lest it fall down and break. She seemed so fragile, so delicate, to him. Already they seemed several worlds apart – she who had been sheltered and pampered all her life, and he who had already seen bloodshed and war alongside his uncle.

He gave her a courteous bow, but didn't bother to feign a smile. "Ohayo, Sakura-san. I am pleased to finally be able to meet you," he told her stiffly.

Her eyes seemed to widen slightly at his manners, but she bowed back to him, this time deeper and more respectful. She coupled the gesture with a tight-lipped smile. "And I you, Neji-san. I pray we will get to know each other more closely through this."

As Lee and Hinata took their turns greeting the newly arrived guest, Neji's pearl-white eyes gazed off at his future bride. He watched as she talked to Hinata, giving a slight bow of respect to her before they spoke – her manners were refined and elegant, as would be expected from a daimyo's daughter. She even cordially endured Lee's constant questions and compliments – she seemed to have infinite patience. Yet, for the first time, he wondered if, like him, she thought everything awkward and uncomfortable; he gathered, despite her easy smile and friendly manner, that she did.

* * *

Tenten tugged self-consciously at the lacquered comb in her hair for reassurance. Realizing that she had been doing just that over and over the past few hours, she forced her hand back to her lap. Being the newest of the maidservants in the Kiritsubo (or, at least, pretending to be so), she was tasked with letting the guests in and showing them to their rooms. The day was a lull one, and she had amused herself with playing with the smooth pale blue satin on her kimono.

She sighed. A few hours before she had actually thought the mission to Higure would be fascinating, exciting beyond all measure. She expected adventure, espionage, and thrills at every corner. And where was she now? Sitting at the doorway of the Kiritsubo Inn, sometimes drifting into a fitful half-sleep.

Though she was sternly instructed to wait at least two days before she carried out her mission, the assassination seemed the only thing on her mind. Surely she wasn't looking forward to killing an innocent young woman, but the mere thought of it saving her comrades strengthened her will. Mayuri, a mere inn matron who knew nothing of the mission details, had guessed at it.

"_This has something to do with the young daimyo-to-be and his marriage with the Akegata daimyo's daughter, no doubt," Mayuri huffed, more of a declaration than a statement seeking confirmation. She pulled at the obi on Tenten's waist, cinching it tighter and making the girl give out a small squeak. The woman brushed it off absently. "The union will obviously be a perilous one on our side."_

_Tenten nodded as she eased the woman's grip slightly. "I am sure it will be, if it takes place. The master has made it clear that we must not take any such chances."_

"_To be sure, to be sure," the older woman replied as she picked up a small phial of clear liquid, and dabbed some onto the younger woman's pulse points. It smelled of jasmine and vanilla mixed into one. "But child, I pray you are quite capable of doing this. I know I have no right to doubt your skill, since the mere fact you are with them means you are more than able to do what others cannot. Still, you are only a child, are you not? It does not matter, though, if your heart is set on it, you can very well do the task."_

"_I pray I will be able to," she answered, bowing courteously before turning to take her leave._

She lifted a hand to a hidden pocket inside her kimono sleeve; it hid the pouch that held most of her weapons. There was another, on the opposite sleeve, and another, attached to her leg under the under-robe. She touched two fingers to each of those pouches warily, as if to make sure they were still there. It was her first most important mission, and she wanted to make sure she did it well. So she tended to be a little over-cautious, but it was better to be prepared than otherwise.

The sound of the paper-paneled balsa wood door sliding open woke her from her reverie. She was rather surprised; she had been listening for footsteps all day and she had heard none, most especially not in the past few moments. Tenten, having lived the past few years in a rebel camp, had trained to heighten her senses, but she hadn't expected anyone at all.

Without looking up, she stood, gave her slightly rumpled kimono a quick brush of the hand, and raised her eyes to the guest. It was an effort to stay passive as she stood there in front of him. He was a tall, pale-skinned young man, dressed simply in traveler's garb. A sword scabbard was strapped to a baldric on his back, and his robes were dark blue. His hair was dark, mirroring his deep, intense dark gray eyes.

She stood there for a moment, staring into his eyes and he into hers. Finally, she remembered both her task and her manners, and gave a courteous bow, as Mayuri had instructed her. "Good morning, sir, welcome to the Kiritsubo Inn," she said, coupling her greeting with a sincere smile.

He looked on indifferently. "You are new here," he observed. His voice, deep but not gravelly, low but not harsh, sent chills down her spine. There was something extraordinary about him, but she dared not guess what it was exactly.

"Yes," she stammered. Realizing she did, she cleared her throat and tried again. "Yes, yes I am. Would you like to speak with Mayuri-san? I'll bring her here as soon as I can, at your word."

He shook his head. "I know my way around," he answered. For a moment his dark eyes took in all of her, from her dark brown hair to her woven straw sandals. His eyes rested on her feet for a while, making her more than a little uncomfortable. Then, he looked back into her eyes, something more of curiosity now in his gaze. "You?" he asked uncertainly.

"Excuse me?" she asked. What was he talking about?

His eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me," his tone took on a sort of growl at the impertinence she didn't know she was showing. "You were at the side route to Higure just this morning, were you not? Your sandals are marked with red earth, the kind only found on that road. But tell me, why did you need to pass that way, when you could have just as easily passed through the gates? Do you, who appears to be a simple serving-girl at an inn, have something to hide from the world?"

She didn't dare speak.

"Sasuke-san!" luckily, Mayuri saved her just in time. The rather plump woman walked over to the young man, whom she had addressed as Sasuke, and looped her arm around his. She tittered slightly at him, while he turned red. She talked to him as a mother would to an infant, cooing and giggling. "I see you've met our new serving-girl, Tenten. Be kind to her, all right, Sasuke-san?" she said with a lilting laugh.

He gave her a final begrudging look before he finally let himself be led away. She turned away and shuddered. Already, this Sasuke had frightened her like no one else had before. Something was different about him – but she was afraid to figure out what that was.

* * *

Lee hummed a tune to himself as he wandered the great halls of the daimyo's palace. Whenever he had nothing to do, no mission to undertake, he took to discovering the little secrets the great house still withheld from him. He was sure that, despite the fact he'd learned to walk in these corridors, there were still places he'd never seen and rooms he'd never entered. Still, that day, adventure was the farthest from his mind.

His thoughts wandered back to the morning, to the very moment the door slid open to let the daughter of Akegata's daimyo enter. Certainly he had been to Akegata before – it was he who delivered the correspondences between the two for the arranged marriage, after all – but he had never before laid eyes on Sakura, neither had he expected to find her so stunning.

Inwardly, he scolded himself. He knew that despite their wishes, Neji and Sakura were fated for each other – otherwise the marriage would never have been settled at all. And Neji was his best, dearest friend – how could he possibly even think of his future wife? He heaved a deep sigh as he turned the corner. The next corridor, he knew, was a veranda that overlooked all of Higure. Maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to clear his mind there.

He froze, because the moment he entered the veranda, he saw the very person he was trying to forget.

Sakura was no longer wearing her formal red kimono. Instead she had donned a russet robe with snowflakes climbing from the top to the hem of the skirt. Beneath it was what looked to be an under-robe of white silk. She had traded in her ceremonious zori for a less formal pair of wooden sandals. Her pink hair fell just past her shoulders, and her pale green eyes seemed to shimmer in the soft sunlight.

Lee took a breath, realizing he had held it when he caught sight of her.

He made to turn away and leave her in her quiet contemplation, but he heard her call out, "Excuse me… Lee-san, isn't it?" her voice was soft and gentle, and he could do nothing but turn around and oblige her with a smile.

"Just… Lee, Sakura-sama," he answered respectfully, not moving from where he was, adding, "Was there something you needed?"

Her eyes widened slightly, but she kept the smile on her face. "No, but there was something I would've wanted to ask you. Would you please stay?" she asked, gesturing him to come closer.

He wanted to make up an excuse, to say that the daimyo summoned him for a mission, but his legs had already taken him to her, so that he stood a few feet beside her, with his eyes set to the horizon she had been watching only a few moments ago. Finally, he asked, "What was it you needed to ask, Sakura-sama?"

She sighed slightly. "Would you please… tell me what Neji-san is like?"

He stiffened for a split-second, but recovered just as quickly. Of course she would want to know more about her future husband. He looked out at the distance and wondered where to begin. She seemed to take his silence for hesitation, and so she added, "I'm sorry. I knew him once, from our childhood, when my father first brought me here. But I know nothing of who he is now."

"I can't imagine he's changed all that much, but, all right," he said with a grin. He shifted his gaze from the sky to her eyes – her beautiful, beautiful eyes. "Neji, as the heir to the position of daimyo in Higure, is first and foremost concerned about everyone, especially his people. Everything he does is to protect them. He knows that sacrifices sometimes have to be made for the greater good. Besides that, he's also proficient in battle, and is Higure's strategist."

She gave a small, light giggle. "Your account of him seems entirely to his favor," she answered, "Tell me then, why does he seem so cold and standoffish?"

"He is only that way to people he doesn't know well," he replied in defense of his close friend. "But once you get to know him, Neji is very concerned for his friends, though he doesn't always show it."

She paled a little. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult him. I am only… afraid. I'm hesitant to push through with the arranged marriage, because I know him very little. At times I wonder if I will learn to love him as my husband, or if it will always be strictly business between us."

Lee smiled sadly. "Neji would trust such things to fate."

She mirrored his smile. "Should I?"

He was silent, looking instead to the far blue-gray mountains. She followed his gaze, and not another word was spoken between them.

* * *

Sasuke lifted the teacup to his lips, while his dark eyes scanned the inn – or at least the little he saw from the small opening in the sliding paper-paneled doors. Serving-girls moved from the individual rooms to the kitchens, moving fast so as not to keep the customers waiting, but slowly so as not to spill the tea or the food. He watched passively as one of these girls accidentally tripped, sending the clay plate she was holding crashing to the floor.

The tea was too bitter for his taste, but it warmed him from the inside. His mind, he cleared from everything. He tried to hear nothing but the silence, taste nothing but the bitterness of tea in his mouth, see nothing but the darkness as he closed his eyes, smell nothing but the scents incense and hot tea mingling in the air, and feel nothing but an evanescent moment of peace.

The door suddenly slid open, waking him from his reverie. He opened his eyes, already set in a glare to whoever had opened the door. The girl from that morning stood there with a tray of sliced fish and tomatoes in her hands, a little surprised but a little reluctant to enter. Her hair was neatly tied into that single bun, and her face was slightly flushed for a reason he didn't care to know. "I… I'm sorry if I disturbed you," she began, "If you want, I can come back later."

He shook his head and gave a noncommittal grunt as he did. She came in, set the tray on the mat before him, and stood up again. There seemed to be twinge of doubt in her warm brown eyes. "Was there anything else you needed? Mayuri-san instructed me to see to anything you might want." Her voice seemed almost grudgingly gentle, but he decided to make nothing of it. He instead gestured to the closed thatched windows at the side of the room.

"Open the windows," he said in reply. She complied.

As she slid open the windows, he remembered the threat in his tone when he spoke to her before. He knew she couldn't have possibly just taken a walk; the side road was too well concealed to have been a route for an idle stroll. He knew, too, that there was something in her defensive, self-protective manner that told him she held a secret from the world.

She bowed respectfully before she left, but his eyes never left her. He knew he had to find out what it was she was hiding, if only to sate his curiosity.

**_Author's Note: _**Why is Sasuke's part so small? Because he doesn't deserve more, that's why. Haha, kidding aside, there was nothing more I could say. I don't think there's anything to clarify… unless you count "setsuka" – it's Japanese for "snow flower" or something like that. Anyway, how was it? I know I haven't updated in a while, so I'm sory, but please tell me what you thought.


	4. Close Your Eyes

_**Crossing Stars**_

_**Yugao**_

_**Author's Note: **_I'm so sorry it took me forever to finish this chapter, but I have summer school, as you all know... hahaha. Anyway, thanks for staying aboard to read/review. I'm so glad you guys enjoy it. In any case, in this chapter, Tenten makes her first move… targeting the daimyo's nephew. What happens if, as she comes back, someone sees her? Well, if you want to find out, read on… (Someone said I write Sakura so highly. For the record, I don't like her at all, but I don't want to bash her either flamersbad. No worries.)

_**Disclaimer: **_There's nothing in Naruto I own.

* * *

_**Chapter 4… Close Your Eyes**_

Fireflies dotted the pitch-black sky in replacement of those elusive wan stars that seemed barely visible that night. A chill wind rang through the gaps between the paper panels, so that whimsical night-music played. Crickets chirped and frogs croaked in a strange sort of accompaniment. Not a single candle or torch was lit; the whole village of Higure was asleep. The Kiritsubo Inn, too, was silent, and its windows blackened by darkness. Not a soul was stirring in the dead of night.

That is, all except one.

She moved quickly, stealthily, through the dim corridors. It was dark and barely anything could be seen, but she had abandoned her pale blue kimono and her pair of straw sandals for something easier to move around in. Her robe and pants were dark blue and melded her in easily with the shadows. She bandaged her arms and legs with strips of black cloth, and wore cloth shoes over a pair of tabi for silent movement. Her hair was once again brought up to either side of her head in a pair of buns, and a faceless mask was set in place.

Tenten touched two fingers to her weapons pouch, and to the scrolls she tucked safely beneath her belt. She smiled, satisfied, as she slid the side door open and left quietly, leaving no sign that anyone had been there. She jumped up onto rooftops and branches, knowing nothing but the speed, the whisper of the wind through the trees, and the mission she was to accomplish that very night.

The leaves rustled, telltale reminders of the grim task she was undertaking. She winced for a split-second, and scolded herself for it. She owed Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari so much - completing the mission they entrusted her wouldn't fully cover her debt to them. She knew she couldn't disappoint them, not when they put so much faith in her.

No.

Failure must not be one of her options.

Quietly, she pushed a branch back away from her eyes. She was close, now. The white walls of the mansion glittered eerily even in the absence of light. The dark shingles that spanned the roof barely cast a shadow; the windows, too, seemed like patches of the night sky, specially chosen that they were devoid of those weakly glimmering stars, and pasted on the palace's austere white face. Her gaze lowered, to the rows of intricate flowerbeds and rose-bushes that snaked around the magnificent house. Everything was beautiful, even in the darkness of the moonless night. She closed her eyes for a moment, committing to memory each door, each window, each tilt and curve of the gardens from the outside. Then, without a sound, she jumped off the low-slung branch to the damp grass as she continued running, guided by mere instinct and by the eyes trained to see what others do not.

But the wall still stood before her.

It rose up to over thrice her size, lined at the top with spikes that protruded through the stone. The wall itself was seamless, with cracks that were too few and too thin to climb up on. She smirked. She supposed that in addition to living lavishly in such an elegant place, the daimyo's family would certainly have to be very protective of their wealth. Hence the need for silly walls - to give them false hope of security. She reached into her pouch and took out a coiled-up rope and a single shuriken. She tied the two together, and with deadly accuracy, she threw the shuriken up to the spikes. The rope caught onto the dull spikes, stopping the shuriken in its flight and looping itself around the spike. She tugged at it to test how strong it was, and then slowly, she was making her way up what had before seemed an unconquerable obstacle.

As one door closed, another opened.

"Stop! Who are you? Explain yourself!" the tip of a Naginata's blade almost touched the bare skin of her neck, and for a moment she was paralyzed in fear. Her dark eyes darted to the other parts of the garden, but she found none else. She guessed this man was in charge of the whole back wall, and had been patrolling when he caught her. She bit her lip from behind her mask and wondered what she should do. When she didn't answer, the man reached out and tried to hold her still, but she took advantage of the movement and slammed her foot into his midsection. Surprised by the attack, he fell back a few paces but recovered quickly. He changed his stance, lifting the long, thin metal rod higher, with the bladed end towards her. "I don't know who you are, but I swear I'd protect the daimyo at all costs."

She heard herself laugh coldly, indifferently. It sounded so unfamiliar, it was as if she was seeing the whole thing play out through someone else's eyes. "Don't worry. I'm not after your daimyo," she said with another sardonic, bitter laugh. She took a pair of kunai out from her weapons pouch and began her dance: her dance with death. Her dance with blood, sweat, tears, pain.

A dance she knew by heart.

Soon - too soon - the man lay dead, his deep red blood staining the white azaleas that had been blooming.

* * *

Footsteps.

He didn't know if they had been remnants of his dream - he had been running, but he didn't know from what - or if he had really heard them outside. Cautiously, Neji pushed the sheets aside, slipped on his wooden sandals, and tried to listen for more movement. He sat still, waiting, listening. He heard crickets chirping. He heard the nightingales in the garden singing, singing. He heard the distant sound of water. He heard his own breaths, slow and controlled but marred with worry. He heard his own heartbeat, pounding in his ears rapidly.

And then - footsteps.

He walked to the other end of the room, where his father's katana lay, beautiful and untainted with what it symbolized. He unsheathed it, putting the glimmering black scabbard back on the table. Tonight - maybe tonight - it was going to taste death once more.

He calmed himself. Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps Lee had been sent on a late-night mission to send an urgent message somewhere. Perhaps Hinata had just woken in the middle of the night, as she usually did, and could no longer sleep. Perhaps the guards were making a last patrol around the corridors. Perhaps Sakura had risen for something as mundane as a glass of water. He didn't know. All he knew was the danger, the intense danger, he sensed was coming. He inched his way to the door, slowly, so as not to make a sound, and yanked it open.

No one.

He stiffened as he tried to stem his sigh of relief. He slid the door closed, and his grip on the katana relaxed. It wasn't until the door was shut that he felt that sense of dread again. He didn't turn around. "What do you want from me? Who are you and why are you here?" he asked coolly. He lifted the katana again before he turned to face whoever it was that had entered his room. He couldn't make out the person's features, as it was near pitch-blackness. With a single word he invoked his clan ability, and he saw a silhouette in the middle of the room, masked and melding into the dark. "Explain yourself."

"The last man who told me that now lies in your garden with a kunai through his heart." A woman's voice. It was fluid, languidly gliding over words like water over stones; and it was icy, aloof, distanced and detached from the world. She was merciless, heartless, soulless - a killer. He sensed she was more than a little amused that she had entered the most protected place in the village without much, if any, resistance. His eyes narrowed. She laughed, and added, "And if it comes to that... so will you."

She flung a kunai at him, and it hit the paper-paneled door behind him, not an inch from where he stood. Calmly, he laughed. "You missed," he said, venom lacing his voice.

"No one said I was aiming for you," she replied.

This time, she came for him. She lunged at him with her kunai, running at a speed he could only barely keep track of. He fended off her attack with his katana, and thrust the slim blade towards her, but she blocked it. The sheer power of his blow sent her back a few paces. He saw this as an opening, withdrew his sword from its place against her kunai, and made to plunge it into her side, but she saw what was happening and evaded the attack.

He was unaffected by her parry, and continued to come at her with the katana. He was deathly fast and his moves were more unpredictable and erratic under pressure – he knew she could hardly guess what he was going to try next. He saw the panic that had begun to show in her movements, and he smirked as she tried to back away and take the fight to a longer range. But Neji quickly let her know that he wouldn't let her take the fight on a longer scale – each time she tried to move away, he attacked at the side she turned her back on. Each time she tried to run, he caught up with her. He knew exactly what she was going to attempt - she was more predictable than he had guessed.

He was going to prove to her that she had to make do with what was going on – a short-range fight, with only her kunai to keep her away from certain death by the morbid glint of his sword.

Somehow, in the blur of events he had been able to find an opening at her side. The whistle of the katana cutting through air alerted her enough that she was able to move out of the way, but it was too late. The sword went through her robes and made a long but shallow gash on her. He smirked again. She had infiltrated the palace and made him believe she was a threat, when she was nothing more than an amateur with the weapons she wielded. He was about to turn his back when the sound of metal brought him back to attention. They were pushed back by the impact of steel meeting steel, but she was faster. She sent him a roundhouse kick that threw him halfway across the room. Pain singed his shoulder, and he realized it was one of the kunai she had been using. He cursed himself for dropping his guard for more than a moment.

He heard her voice again, this time weak and drained. "You got lucky tonight," she whispered, "I won't kill you."

"Hah," despite his pain he felt the need to reply. "The truth is, you can't kill me."

"We'll see," she answered, "But I will never let your marriage take place."

And as he struggled to get up, he realized she was gone.

* * *

"Sakura-sama!"

Her eyes opened to the complete darkness and the sound of Lee's voice. She yawned sleepily as she pushed herself up off her bed to look at him. "Lee?" she asked as she brushed the sleep away from her eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you waking me so early? Has something happened?" She clutched her robes closer to herself as she slipped her feet into her sandals. She could hear the trepidation in the young man's short, ragged breaths.

"It's Neji, Sakura-sama," he said worriedly, "He's hurt."

Her eyes widened as she stood. "Hurt? How?" she asked as she walked over to where he was. "What happened, Lee?"

"An assassin!" he stammered as he took her wrist, "An assassin came into Neji's room tonight, and threatened to kill him! He's badly wounded."

She bit her lip worriedly. "Take me to him."

"Yes, Sakura-sama."

They said nothing as they half-walked, half-ran through the corridors. Her heartbeat and her feet raced as she followed Lee. It was only her first night in the mansion, and already something had happened to her husband-to-be. She couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible; she knew that several upon several people were greatly opposed to their arranged marriage. Maybe, somehow, it was her fault that this was happening. Maybe, somehow, if she had disagreed to the wedding altogether, both of them would be free of any danger; free of any worry.

Unlike that night.

Lee turned at a corner and slid a door open. She entered first, a part of her frightened and another part relieved that he was all right. He lay there on the bed, cringing with pain but doing nothing else to express it. A hole was borne through his shoulder, and deep crimson stained the sheets. His pallid eyes were closed, as if he was in a fitful, disturbed sleep. Four people stood by his bed - two young men, who had begun to clean the wound; Hinata, who looked on with fear and worry for her cousin; and Hiashi-sama, who watched the scene with his grave, pale eyes.

Hinata saw her first. "Sakura-sama!" she said as she suppressed her tears. "Come. Kiba and Shino are saying it's getting more and more difficult to save him. The kunai... was laced with poison, and..." her words trailed off. Sakura walked over to her and put her arm around the girl's slight, slender shoulders to comfort her, even if she, too, felt nothing but fear over what had only just happened.

"It's going to be all right, Hinata-sama," she whispered as she watched the two young men wipe away the blood that had dried and clung to Neji's skin.

_"Sakura..."_

A distant memory she had thought she had under control had surfaced again. She felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes.

_"My daughter... my dear, beautiful daughter..."_

_"I'll save you, Mother. Wait... please wait. Please hold on. Please."_

_"No, Sakura. No more. No more..."_

_"I can save you, Mother! Please, let me save you!"_

_"You're innocent, my child... too innocent to know I can no longer be saved."_

_"Mother!"_

_"Goodbye, Sakura..."_

"Let me," she whispered.

One of the healers, whose face was half-hidden by his robe, looked up at her. "What?"

"Please. Let me clean the wound," beside her, Hinata had stopped shaking to look up at her strangely. She didn't look at her. "I've had much experience in healing, and I would like to help save him."

The other nodded. "Of... of course."

And in the silence of the night, she tended to Neji's wounds. From the corner of the room, the daimyo was watching; he smiled sadly, knowing that this scene was the first of many still to come.

* * *

The door slid open. Finally. After hours of waiting.

She walked in through the door, and just as quickly as she did he grabbed her by the wrist and twisted it painfully towards her back. She was about to scream, but he laid a hand over her mouth. "Shh..." he warned. "You don't want anyone to know who you really are, do you? I mean you no harm. Come, I'll bring you to the tea room and you can tell me exactly what you were doing out so late, dressed like this..." he pulled off the mask that had covered her features, and he smirked. "... Tenten."

"Sasuke," she answered, forgetting all her servant-girl courtesy to a guest. He suppressed a laugh at the hatred in her brown eyes. He couldn't quite believe how different she was from the innocent little serving girl he met only that morning. She was a born actress. A born liar. "Let go of me."

"No," he answered, painfully tightening his grip on her wrist, "We'll wake people if we talk here. You have no other choice but to tell me where you went."

She opened her mouth to say something, but she must have realized he was right. She said nothing as she led the way to the tea room obediently, and slid the door open quietly. He followed, and closed the door behind him. With disgust, he let go of her and let her drop to the floor. She glared at him as she sat up again. "What is it that you want, Sasuke?" she asked angrily, venomously. He sat down across from her, watching her. "Why did you bring me here? What do you want to know?"

"Who are you?" he asked.

She sighed exasperatedly. "Mayuri told you this morning, my name is Tenten..."

"Is it really? Because I find it hard to believe that of someone who goes around at midnight, masked," he threw the clay mask down to the mats so that it shattered into several pieces. He didn't care if anyone heard them anymore. "Tell me then, Tenten, what exactly you were doing tonight."

She laughed, bemused. "Big words from someone who passes himself off as a lowly traveler, though he carries a katana worthy of a shogun's wielding."

"My business is my own," he retorted, touching one hand to the sword she had mentioned. It was clear in its scabbard, but her frustrating comebacks were asking to have it unsheathed.

"And I could say that of myself, too," she answered as she stood, gathering the pieces of the mask he had broken. She turned around, and as her back was to him, she said slowly, "I don't know who you really are, Sasuke. I don't know why you're here. To tell you frankly, I'm not quite sure I care, because you aren't harming me with your past. Do not bother yourself with mine."

He glared at her, though he knew she couldn't see him. "Stay. I am not through with you."

"Leave me alone."

"You were fighting tonight," he said suddenly, making her turn around to look at him questioningly. "Your wound. Do you think I did not notice? You are hurt, and you will be even more so if you don't have that treated straightaway. But you don't want anyone else to find out, so you're going to recklessly keep it all to yourself."

She narrowed her eyes. "I can take care of myself."

"Does Mayuri know?"

"Don't bring her into this."

"She does, doesn't she?"

"... No."

"I see."

"I have to leave, now," she said finally, and before he could protest, she slid the door open and left.

He smirked. "I'll find out who you are yet, Tenten."

_**Author's Note: **_I know this chapter was more than a little morbid, and please forgive me if you don't like it. But it really was the tone I was trying to set for this chapter, because it revolves around death, pain, and all those emo things Sasuke enjoys. Haha. Just kidding. Anyway, time for clarifications! **Azaleas **are flowers that are native to China and other countries in the Orient, with varieties in white, pink, yellow, lavender, etc. They symbolize tradition and purity. (How ironic... hahaha.) And the **Byakugan **has now been mentioned... well, of course you know what that is, otherwise you shouldn't even be here. (Just kidding) And a **Shogun **is a general in the Japanese army, the leaders, who are often depicted with the best weapons and armor, hence Tenten's allusion to Sasuke's kusanagi (which appears to be a sword befitting a shogun). Thanks, I hope you enjoyed!


	5. It Had To Be You

_**Crossing Stars**_

_**Yugao**_

_**Author's Note: **_Oh, dear Lord. I know I haven't continued this in forever, but I'm planning to change that now. I'm planning to finish the stories I started (for a change). So I've been rereading and rereading so I could get a feel for the story again, so here's the fifth chapter of _Crossing Stars, _for old readers (if you're still out there) and new readers (thanks for dropping by). In this chapter, old friends arrive and new friends are made… but which are real, and which aren't?

_**Disclaimer: **_There's nothing in Naruto I own.

_**Chapter 5… It Had To Be You**_

The sky was clear and cloudless, and the sun was shining down on everything in sight as brightly as ever, but after last night's events the day's beauty felt fake, almost superfluous and insincere. The thought was ridiculous, that was true, but Sakura had been entertaining more ridiculous thoughts lately. Like the thought of going home to Akegata for the time being, since it didn't seem at all safe here as it was. She sighed as she stood up from where she had been sitting, in what was meant to be _her _room in this house that would someday be called her own. The thought _was _ridiculous, and as such deserved no more than to remain _just _a thought.

For the first time in a long while, she felt scared. Not the butterflies-in-your-stomach sort of afraid, mind you – that, she felt enough of just thinking of her arranged marriage. This fear was, as of last night, perfectly justified: it was the fear for her life. It was clear that someone despised the idea of a marriage that unified Akegata and Higure – enough to have either one of them (or, she feared, even _both _of them) – killed. Once again she thought that maybe it would have been better if they'd called it off altogether. Sure that would be playing right into the assassin's plans, and giving them what they – whoever they were – want on a silver platter. But stubborn as she was, she didn't want to _die!_

Bringing her out of her thoughts, at least for the moment, the door slid open to reveal Lee standing on her doorstep. He seemed to be frowning, and that was something odd, especially since he had struck her as the perennially smiling type. "Sakura-sama," he began tentatively, as if he wanted to say something but didn't know exactly how to put words together in the best possible way. Then, as if he'd decided on _just the right ones, _he continued: "There are people here, claiming to know you, and they've – well, one of them anyway – caused a bit of trouble and knocked out one of the patrolling guards for no reason."

Her pallid green eyes widened. What if this was another attempt on her life? Before she could even finish the thought, though, the door slid open again, spilling light into the room – enough light to show that two people stood at the doorway this time. One of them was a tall, dark-and-spiky-haired young man with a bored, almost disinterested look in his dark eyes. He wore a dark green robe and hakama, with the seal of Akegata stitched into the sleeve. The other was a woman – ash-blond, blue-eyed, and beautiful, in a kimono of stunning amethyst, with yugao climbing from the hem to her knee as if on a trellis, and a silvery white obi that cinched her small waist.

A smile was on the latter's face as she said, with a teasing smile, "You know, forehead girl, if I'd known we'd be treated this badly on our arrival I probably wouldn't have even bothered coming. You should be thankful I was able to pull some strings and get another carriage from Akegata to Higure." She crossed her arms and sighed as if she was on the verge of utter exasperation, but the mischievous smile in her strange blue-green eyes betrayed the fact that she was merely happy to be there.

"You didn't _have to come, _Ino-pig," Sakura answered with less decorum than was probably expected from a daimyo's daughter, but such liberties could be taken between the best of friends anyway. And although her words didn't show it, it took a lot of effort to restrain herself from running to the door and hugging the blonde – after all, Lee was there, and though she was sure he wouldn't mind, she had to maintain _some _formality around people who weren't quite old friends just yet.

The man who was with her groaned and answered, "No, she didn't _have _to come, and neither did I – but she insisted on getting the next possible carriage to Higure once she found out you were gone. And, I'm afraid, the _strings _she pulled were mine – she wouldn't stop pestering me until I agreed to accompany her and make it sound, to the daimyo, that we were leaving on official business." In reply to the Akegata tactician's comment, the blonde only glared at him and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "You _know _you wanted to come anyway", but Sakura couldn't be quite sure.

"You… _know _these people, Sakura-sama?" Lee asked with a hint of apprehension. Obviously Ino had done something to give him doubts, which was only to be expected from someone so loud-mouthed and rash. Sakura smiled and nodded, and he excused himself to leave the room. Once he was gone the daimyo's daughter saw no need to restrain herself anymore, and she enveloped two of her childhood friends in a hug (that threatened to rumple the pale green kimono she was wearing). When she decided that they needed to come up for air she pulled away and smiled.

"There's no need to be so sentimental," Ino chided, pushing a few stray strands of the blond hair that had fallen from her chignon away from her face. With a grin, she went on: "Besides, I'm sure you would've done the same for me if _I _suddenly disappeared to get married, and my only companion was a rather perverted guardian who left me shortly after the deal was finalized." Ino knew as well as Sakura did, though, that the reason why Kakashi was called back to Akegata was because of her father's quickly deteriorating health. The blonde bit her lip, hoping she hadn't said too much.

If she was offended, Sakura did a good job of hiding it. She merely smiled and said, "Thank you. Ino. Shikamaru. It means a lot to me that you decided to come."

* * *

The voice was familiar. Not only was it familiar; it was also anxious, _afraid, _even. Coming from someone he thought had long ago dulled her ability to fear, it was something of a surprise. She sighed, quite audibly, before she commented, "He knows, Mayuri-san, _he knows. _Maybe I should just tell Gaara-sama I failed and have him send someone else. Someone worthier of doing a job like this. It's only been two nights and already someone saw right through me. I'm not cut out to do things like this. I'm a failure."

Sasuke's hand, poised in midair to knock on Mayuri's door, froze. He had come to ask something, anything about that strange new serving-girl she had hired, to see if indeed Mayuri was as innocent as Tenten – if that _was _her real name – had claimed she was. Although he wasn't usually one for eavesdropping, it seemed like his questions were going to be answered by just standing there and pressing his ear against the balsa wood-and-paper door, and he couldn't bring himself to move away. Casually he leaned against the wall next to the door, his head surreptitiously leaning against the doorpost.

A childish giggle, from someone whose voice was too old to sound characteristically giggly – he supposed this was Mayuri laughing, and this was confirmed when it was her voice that answered, "I know that Sasuke-san is handsome and intelligent, Tenten, but that's hardly proof that he knows. You're letting your _emotions _get in the way of your mission, and that's something unacceptable by _their _standards."

_Their_ standards? But who were "they"? Sasuke hardly reacted to Mayuri's compliment his way; he was more concerned with the fact that the woman obviously knew a lot more than Tenten had let on the night before. He crossed his arms over his chest and listened intently, all the while pretending not to. It was early in the morning, after all – maybe not even dawn just yet. He knew that Mayuri woke up at daybreak to supervise the goings-on in the kitchen and would be back in her room around this time. The other guests would still be fast asleep, and the serving-girls would've been busy in the kitchen. (This was probably why they were so confident talking about it like this, as well.) There was little, if any, chance of his being caught listening in on a conversation he obviously wasn't supposed to hear.

"He _saw _me coming back from last night's mission," a younger voice, hushed and slightly muffled, but there was no mistaking who it was. It was Tenten, he was sure of it. So it was true: Mayuri knew everything, and more – though he understood her lying to him about the woman's involvement. If he had found out earlier he would use the information against both of them to find out exactly what was going on. He smirked at the irony. He had to admit that this was a _much _easier way for him to uncover what was happening. He heard her continue, in a less harshly muted voice, "He _saw _me, and then he demanded that I tell him what's going on. He's not just an ordinary traveler, Mayuri-san, and I knew that from the start. I should have been more careful."

There was a pause, presumably of stunned silence. And then: "Well, child, it's not like Sasuke-kun is going to tell the daimyo of what you're out to do. He's not a _friend _of Akegata's, that's for certain. Years ago, his brother massacred their entire clan – all of them, except Sasuke-kun – and then he left to join a rebel army not unlike the one Gaara-sama leads. Sasuke-kun was only a little boy back then – but when he was old enough, he left the village to look for his brother. Presumably, to exact revenge."

The self-satisfied smirk that had, moments ago, been on Sasuke's face was replaced with a scowl. His displeasure wasn't insomuch as the recollection of his past – he had long ago discarded any bitterness with which he regarded what had happened and put indifference in its place. He wondered, however, how it was that Mayuri, the owner of a small inn of a village far from Akegata, knew all of this – though it was clear that appearances were no longer to be trusted when it came to people like Mayuri and Tenten – or even people like him.

Apparently he wasn't the only one wondering as to the source of this information, because Tenten asked, "And how did you learn of this, Mayuri-san?" Her voice was quiet, strained, as if she was still trying to comprehend everything that she was told. If he was one to work with the imagination he would have tried to see, in his mind's eye, the look on her face as she was taking everything in. But he wasn't, and his scowl remained as he stood there listening.

"If I didn't have my ways, child," the older woman mused with a smile, "I wouldn't be very good at this, now would I? Now come, you'll be needed in the kitchen in a while." Footsteps, and the door slid open, but there was no one in the hallway – not that they expected anyone to be. But back in his room, a certain avenger knew that the game had only just started, now that they both knew exactly who the other was.

No secrets. A fair fight was on its way.

* * *

"I still think it's a bad idea, especially with what happened yesterday, Lee," the pale-eyed young man told his childhood friend. It was common for Lee to come up with something that the pale-eyed heir disagreed with, but this time his apprehension was well-founded. Last night there was an attempt on Neji's life, and whoever had tried to kill him before was probably still lurking around the village somewhere, waiting for the cover of night and the opportunity to strike. This wasn't a game where going along with his more carefree friend would have no repercussions; this was a matter of life and death, if you would please pardon the cliché.

As expected, however, Neji's wide-eyed companion paid no attention to him and happily walked on. He had somehow gotten it into his head that making Neji wear less finery and trading his lacquered black sandals for straw ones would fool the villagers into thinking he was anyone other than who he was. Albeit it _might _work, taking into consideration the fact that the younger generation of their family was too sheltered to ever _see _the world outside the mansion. But if his eyes – pale, almost pearly gray, a dominant trait in their clan – weren't a dead giveaway as to his identity, then Neji had no idea what was.

"You need to breathe, Neji," he answered, though it wasn't exactly the answer he had expected. Neji's hard gaze softened a little (just a little). Lee knew that he was the type to keep to traditions and customs and _rules _with a passion, and here he was, asking him to have a chance to come up for air. He couldn't say that he was unable to sympathize; he had always felt the same way around the mansion, though being the heir to the seat of the daimyo of Higure he was not in a position to do anything about it. Neji said nothing more about this, and he was left to his thoughts.

What did that mean, exactly? What did Lee think was suffocating him? And why _did _Neji feel suffocated, as well? Was he more anxious about the arranged marriage than he dared let on?

Lee smiled. "I know just what you need, Neji!" he announced as he led the way. The Hyuuga had heard this from his friend several, _several _times before, as he proposed things that were _not, _contrary to his line of thought, just what he needed – from full-body acupuncture treatments to a trip to Lee's hairdresser; he only hoped that this time it would be something even mildly enjoyable. As if able to read his friend's mind, Lee explained, "There's this inn – the Kiritsubo – where I make sure to stop by before and after every trip. They have the best tea and onigiri in Higure, and the proprietress, Mayuri-san, is a very agreeable woman. You'll like it, Neji, trust me… oh, here we are!"

Neji looked up to the 'here' where they were. They stood before an inn, one that he probably would not have noticed if not for Lee's pointing it out to him. It looked like every other building on that street: built from balsa wood with paper-paneled doors on which hung rice-paper signs that announced the building to be _Kiritsubo Inn _and that they were very welcome to enter. He would not have surmised that such an inconspicuous inn would be home to the _best, _as Lee had claimed; but then again, the young man tended to exaggerate, and it was going to be up to Neji to decide for himself if the Kiritsubo matched up with Lee's sterling recommendation. The latter slid the door open and ushered Neji into the hallway, where a young woman was sitting to greet incoming guests.

"Ohayo, welcome to… oh!"

The serving-girl who greeted them turned wide-eyed with surprise as she laid eyes on Neji, and he could guess as to why. "I knew this was a bad idea," he muttered to Lee. Everywhere he went, he risked being recognized by anyone who knew anything about the Hyuuga clan, the family in the seat of power in the state. He had no idea how Lee had convinced the daimyo that this was a good idea. Maybe it was a temporary lapse of good judgment on his uncle's part. He just didn't see what good this would do him at all, especially since the first person they encountered recognized him immediately.

She must have heard him, because she stood up, gave him a deep and respectful bow, before saying, "No, I'm sorry; it's just that I didn't recognize Hyuuga-sama at first. Forgive my absence of mind. Shall I call Mayuri-san for you?" At this she slowly, almost awkwardly, straightened from her bow, though she didn't seem to dare to look Neji in the eyes. The girl was dark-haired and dark-eyed, features common to the people of Higure, though there was something that felt rather different about her. There was something in her brown eyes, he realized, that was beyond what the average young woman's eyes would have held in a safe, peaceful village like this one, though he couldn't say exactly what it was.

"No, it's fine," Lee answered, when he realized that Neji wasn't going to say anything. Perhaps he thought that his friend wouldn't deign to speak to someone who was both a commoner and a stranger. He smiled obligingly and explained, "I'd rather surprise her."

* * *

Tenten watched as the pair walked away from the entrance hallway towards the tearoom of the Kiritsubo, thinking on the other young man's last words to her. _I'd rather surprise her. _She had to offer a smile at that thought. Bringing one of the rebel army's targets straight to their doorstep was a surprise – that was for certain. The wound he had given her last night still stung, especially now that she was seeing him walking across the room perfectly fine, as if he, unlike her, did not feel the aftershocks of her attack last night. She clenched a fist, though the gesture of bitterness was veiled by her kimono sleeve. Here was her target, not even a foot away from her, and she could do nothing but bow to him and lie as to why she was so surprised to see him. She could have so easily killed him. There were three pouches of weapons that were within her reach, and all she said was "Shall I call Mayuri-san for you?"

She felt helplessly defeated, although she knew the fight had not yet begun. What absurd twist of fate had brought this on?

She watched Mayuri greet the two, the white-eyed Hyuuga with respect and the dark-haired companion with fondness. The latter most likely had no idea what he had done: he had brought the heir close enough for her to kill him. But, all things considered, it was not like she could have assassinated him then and there anyway. Not in broad daylight, and certainly not inside the inn, where it would draw too much suspicion to Mayuri. Perhaps the other one was not as foolish as he seemed; he knew that any attempt at an assassination had to be carried out at night if the killer did not want to be caught.

She sighed. This had sounded relatively easy when Gaara had explained it to her days ago.

From the corner of her eye she saw Mayuri excuse herself and leave the two in the care of Ayame, one of the other serving-girls. At the end of the hallway the woman nodded discreetly to her, which was, Tenten knew, a signal that meant "See me in my room". She waited for a moment before she stood and followed Mayuri back to her chambers, sliding the door shut behind her. Then she turned around, knowing that she was in for another speech. However, Mayuri said nothing as she sat there in the middle of the room – it was as if she was waiting for Tenten to talk.

"Fate is cruel. Here they bring him right into the inn, unaccompanied by the daimyo's guards, and I could do nothing but ask them if they wanted to see you!" she said, her tone harsh with her own agitation. She ran a hand through her dark brown hair, which she had kept loosely tied behind her back – she had not been in the mood to put it up in a tight bun. She had gotten little, if any, sleep last night, especially after the encounter with Sasuke. Everything was piling up, little by little, and she did not know how much more she could take.

Surprisingly, Mayuri laughed in response. The slightly heavy woman stood from where she had been seated, and walked towards her. "Oh, Tenten, Tenten, Tenten," she said, in the fond way one speaks to silly children. She smiled, remnants of her previous laughter, and told her, "Don't you see? This is your chance. Fate is not cruel to you. In doing this it has been nothing but kind. This is your _chance,_" she repeated for emphasis. She cupped the younger woman's cheek in her hand. "This is your chance to be invaluable to Gaara-sama and the others. This is your chance to protect them. To protect _us._"

"What are you talking about, Mayuri-san?" she asked, not understanding any of this at all.

"Befriend him, my child. Gain his trust. Be that little serving-girl who makes him laugh, the one who makes his life of imprisonment to the daimyo freer. Disillusion him into thinking that you are no more than who you appear to be: a simple young woman who knows not the life beyond serving tea and onigiri to guests in the evenings," she explained, and all at once it made sense to her. Tenten knew, though, that such a deception was going to be the most difficult thing she would ever attempt. Then, Mayuri began, "You know what they say. Keep your friends close…"

"… and your enemies closer," Tenten finished, newly resolute once again.

_**Author's Note: **_MUHA. This felt good. Anyway, clarifications: **yugao **is literally "evening faces" in Japanese, the local name for the moonflower.


End file.
